


She Never Says A Word

by misqueme



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe — Horrortale, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Mentions of monsterphobia, Oof this is actually kind of a slow burn? A medium burn maybe, Papyrus is wonderful and Sans is awkward, Soft and good, There’s Angst Now I’m Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-12-27 03:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18295808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misqueme/pseuds/misqueme
Summary: Sans is puzzled by one of the customers, who never speaks to him.It’s probably just a case of monsterphobia, though. Wouldn’t be the first time.





	1. Meeting Misunderstanding: Part One

Sans is cleaning.

He’s always cleaning, really, at this job, because that’s the only thing they can get him to do. He’s too forgetful for stocking, too quiet to be a checkout. But too hardworking to let down.

So he cleans.

Since they’ve hired him, almost all of the other cleaners have been dropped. He doesn’t mind that, necessarily, because his pay rate went up, but he does mind that several people are jobless thanks to him.

Ah, well. Survival of the fittest.

Just thinking that phrase causes Sans to shudder horribly, the mop in his hand vibrating. “Survival of the fittest”... heh. And yet he survived, even if he was definitely not the fittest.

One of his hands slowly reaches up to brush the cavernous hole in his skull. An entire piece of his head that was just... missing. How oddly fitting to his situation.

His phalanges gently and carefully trace the jagged edges of the scar. Slow, like everything else he did. Carefully, like how he spoke these days (when he spoke at all).

The bell dings, announcing someone at the front door. Sans’s skull turns mildly in that direction, confusion setting in. Most people don’t go grocery shopping at night. That’s why he’s on this shift, after all. Less chance of being seen.

The person who walks in is a young woman. Definitely odd to see a female alone at nighttime, Sans’s brain registers eventually. She’s walking with an air of confidence, and once the door closes behind her, her shoulders slump in what looks like relief.

Sans tilts his head to the side, feeling vaguely confused. He wonders if she needs help with her selection and then wonders when someone will come to help her.

It’s been a full minute of her searching the shelves when he remembers that he’s the only one in the store right now, and therefore the only person allowed to help.  
Ah, the unfortunate job of customer service.

Sans walks to her, slow as always, and is surprised when she doesn’t hear his footsteps. Maybe it’s the slippers.

When he finally reaches the young woman, she turns and spots him, flinching back. Sans doesn’t respond, he’s used to that. Most people react with fear at his haggard appearance and blood red eye light.

But, to his surprise, she then smiles. And waves.

Waves? To him? ... Odd.

He stares for a few seconds, most likely making her uncomfortable, before he remembers why he came over here in the first place. His phalanges clench in his pockets as he prepares to talk again.

“...Can I help you ...find anything?” He asks slowly.

The woman is still staring at him, growing more uncomfortable by the moment. Oops. He should’ve known better... she must’ve only been waving to be polite. Now he’s just standing here awkwardly, because she hasn’t answered his question, and he still hasn’t helped.

Several seconds of awkward silence pass, and as she lifts up one of her hands and opens her mouth, Sans tilts his head to the side to apologize.

“Sorry. Guess you don’t need help.” And he waves at her, which only seemed fair because that’s what she’d done. And as he very slowly walks away, he could feel the woman’s eyes on his back.

Oh, well. No harm, no fowl. It wasn’t like he had to see her again, Sans reasons to himself. The mop returns to his hands and he resumes cleaning the tile floor. An awkward silence was definitely not the worst thing that could happen.

He wasn’t expecting to see her again the next night.

She didn’t talk to him, as expected, but she did watch him as he swept on the opposite end of the grocery store. He hoped he wasn’t making her uncomfortable. It would be unfortunate to lose his job.

The next time he sees her, it’s a week later. Once again, the woman hurries in late at night, and once again, she stares at him. Much less so then the other nights, but it still happens.

Sans offers her assistance, but she ignores him once again, so he sighs and resigns himself to his fate.

You just can’t reason with someone once they’ve made up their mind about monsters. At least she was quiet about it... there had been Humans in the past who yelled. Sans winced at the memory.

Yeah, you can’t change someone’s opinion once they decided on it.


	2. Meeting Misunderstanding: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you have a very awkward time at the store.

When Papyrus calls, Sans knows he’s in for a bad time.

“I Don’t Care What You Say,” The skeleton says very firmly into the receiver. “I’m Coming To Check It Out.”

“It’s really... fine, bro,” Sans mumbles on his end. “Nice place. Good people.”

“I’m Inclined To Not Believe You.”

Sans shrugs, leaning against the checkout counter. “Sometimes the customers... aren’t great. But that’s really... it.”

“I Don’t Care What You Say. If It’s Not A Good Work Environment, You Should Stop.”

“Kinda need... the money, bro.”

There’s a slight silence, and Sans can picture Papyrus waving his arms about in frustration.

“I’m Coming, Then. I’ll Decide If It’s Good Or Not.”

“You really don’t need to—“

Dial tone. Sans sighed and rubbed the bridge above his nasal cavity. Papyrus was way too overprotective. Sure, he forgot things— a lot— and sure, he was much slower then he used to be. But that wasn’t cause for constant supervision.

Maybe he could complain to Carol?

Sans trudges up to his boss’s office, knocking sullenly on the door. It opened nearly at once, Carol’s Customer Service Face poking out.

“Oh. Sans,” Carol slumps in relief, her face returning to normal. “Did you need something?”

“My brother’s... coming by,” he grumbles slowly. “Wants to... scope out the place.”

Carol’s face brightens considerably. “Oh, that’s fine. As long as he doesn’t break anything.”

“...Really?” Sans asks, because he has a feeling that’s against company policy. Carol waves a hand dismissively through the air. 

“It’s fine, Sans. You’re a good worker.”

“...Oh.”

Sans is still pondering this when Carol looks over his shoulder. “Hi, (Y/N)!”

The skeleton jumps a little and turns around, seeing... the woman. The one who didn’t like monsters.

Apparently her name is (Y/N).

Carol smiles brightly and steps outside her office to talk. “Finding everything okay?”

(Y/N) actually grins. And nods. 

Sans is struck by surprise. Of course, it makes sense that she’d interact with other people, but it still hurt a little.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

The woman nods again and then goes on her way, swinging her basket.

“Isn’t she the sweetest?” Carol asks Sans. “Probably our most frequent and loyal customer. Although it’s not like she really has a choice, haha.”

Sans blinks, slowly. “I don’t... know.”

“Hm?” Carol turns back to face him, looking slightly concerned. “What do you mean?”

“She never... says a word to me.”

Carol stares at him, for about fifteen seconds, before bursting into laughter.

“Oh— oh my,” she’s laughing. “Sans, I didn’t know you liked puns!”

Sans watched her, quavering slightly. Puns...? He did like puns. Or he had, once. But his mind was fuzzy with confusion right now. He didn’t understand where the pun even was.

Carol says goodbye to him and returns to her office. She says she’ll check on him and his brother in a bit.

Oh, joy.

When Papyrus shows up at the start of Sans’s checkout shift on the dot, he’s excited.

“I’ve gotta warn you, bro...” Sans starts cautioning, “some people here... won’t wanna talk. They just like... to look.”

“Well, The Obvious Solution To That Is That I Will Stare Even Better Then Them!”

Sans sighs. This is gonna be awful.

———————

You felt along the shelves gently with your fingers as you passed, smiling a little. The store was always so cheery, and Carol was sweet as always, and you had found everything you needed to make quite possibly the best pasta of your entire life.

With a bit of a skip in your step, you walk into a checkout aisle, and—

Oh no. It was that skeleton.

You winced at the realization. Normally you didn’t have a problem with monsters— even large, scary ones with one blood red eye— but it was awkward when people just walked up and. Stared at you.

You’d waved to him that one time, and he’d waved back, but otherwise it was just weird and creepy.

You take a deep breath. It’d be rude and probably racist to change lines now, so you set your basket down in front of the skeleton monster.

He tilts his head to the side, looking slightly resigned. You wonder what’s going on in his head as suddenly, the person standing behind him spins around and spits you.

Oh! Another skeleton!

This one’s incredibly tall, with a longer face and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. His teeth are slightly smashed, which— jeez, looks painful. You wonder what could have caused that. 

He’s staring at you, just like the shorter one did. Except something about it is entirely different. Rather then blankly look at you with unfocused interest, this taller skeleton is jutting out his jaw and refuses to look away. His position is screaming challenge.

The smaller skeleton is looking at you expectantly— oh, he’s rung up your food. His face is sinking into the fur of his hood slightly and you smile kindly at him, knowing that customer service is rough and you’re definitely not the easiest customer.

The screen has your total on it, so you count out the money and place it in the awkward monsters’ hand.

The tall one jumps. You jump. You’re staring as his jaw starts opening and closing— he’s pointing at your pasta, excitement shining in his expression.

You realize he’s talking and you almost fall over in your embarrassment. When he offers a gloved hand, you shake it, smiling bashfully because you cannot believe you accidentally did that.

The shorter skeleton comes out of his hood like a turtle and looks back and forth between your hand and the monster’s. Did he want a handshake too? It’d be much easier if he’d just talk to you... the ignoring was starting to be scary.

Someone taps you on the shoulder and you spin, seeing Carol behind you. Her face is concerned. You smile weakly, embarrassed for having once again caused a scene.

‘What’s going on here?’ Carol is asking. You turn to watch. The short skeleton doesn’t respond to her, even though the tall one is looking at him expectantly. Perhaps he just doesn’t like to talk?

‘Is that so?’ Carol frowns, and turns to you. You feel lost. No one had said anything. You’re sure of it, you haven’t missed words in forever.

‘What?’ You mouth, confused beyond belief. Carol blinks a few times, looks at you, then at the skeletons, then back to you again.

She starts laughing.

‘Oh my GOD,’ she says. She’s crying because of how hard she’s laughing. You feel completely lost— a quick glance tells you the two monsters feel the same way.

Carol grabs onto the counter for support, gripping her sides.

‘(Y/N) is deaf, you guys! She can’t read your lips because you DON’T HAVE ANY!’

You blanch in fear and embarrassment once you understand what she’s saying. The skeletons have been taking to you this whole time? And you didn’t even know?! You must have come across as so rude, so terrible...

You turn to the short skeleton, who’s staring at you.

‘I’m so sorry!’ You sign, not even knowing or caring if he understood. Carol could translate if she had to. ‘I— I didn’t even know you were talking! You don’t have expression!’

The skeleton is shaking a little when he signs right back: ‘Have I just been walking up to you and... standing there this whole time? If you couldn’t tell I was speaking?’

You nod a little.

‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry—‘

‘Dude, I’M sorry—‘

‘No, I am... that was probably so awkward and rude—‘

‘I probably came off as totally racist!’

The whole time, Carol has tears streaming down her face from just how hilarious she finds this whole thing. Eventually, she waves to get your attention and you turn.

‘Papyrus says that he likes your cooking choice,’ Carol says, grinning.

‘Oh, um... thanks! ... P-A-P-Y-R-U-S? Did I get that right?’ Your hands are shaking a little. The shorter skeleton nods.

‘I’m S-A-N-S. My brother,’ he adds, pointing to the taller skeleton, ‘really loves pasta.’

‘Oh,’ you sign, ‘me too!’

And then Papyrus asks for your phone number because he wants to “swap recipes”, and you’re caught entirely off guard because no one ever asks for your phone number, least of all for spaghetti tips.

And as you’re typing into the taller brother’s phone, Sans continues to apologize for what happened. It seems he’s just as mortified as you are.

You grin and wave your hands while slapping them together, indicating that it doesn’t matter. 

That may have been the weirdest thing to happen to you in a while, but it was definitely one of the best!

And when Papyrus hands you back your phone, you’re surprised to see he’s inputted two numbers instead of one. When you look up questionably, all he does is wink.

You may have just embarrassed yourself beyond belief— but you think this may be the start of some great friendships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this made sense! 
> 
> Kudos to all of you in the comments section who guessed she was deaf or mute ;)
> 
> She’s deaf, not expressly mute, but as you can tell she doesn’t really talk. She is pretty skilled at lip-reading, exCEPT FOR ON SKELETONS BECAUSE THEY DON’T. HAVE LIPS. Papyrus at least has like a jaw but Sans’s mouth literally doesn’t move at all and you can see how that would be confusing.
> 
> I should give credit to TheLlamaGoddess and Popatochisp because their Horror!Sanses are my favorite thing ever and a huge inspiration.


	3. Spaghetti Invite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get a very welcome surprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m... continuing this?? Maybe???? I honestly don’t really know. If enough people enjoy it, maybe I’ll actually try to come up with a plot or something...
> 
> Meanwhile, enjoy Papyrus! Who I love very much!

A faint buzzing against you leg makes your start in surprise. You’d just been curled up on the couch, reading, when your phone went off.

It was probably a video update, or a spam email, but you checked the phone anyway because you liked pretending you were the type of person who got notifications often.

You pull the device out of your pocket with an expression of surprise as the screen lights up and displays a message.

XXX-XXX-XXX: HOW ARE YOU ON THIS LOVELY EVENIN...

Intrigued, you open the message to see it in full.

XXX-XXX-XXX: HOW ARE YOU ON THIS LOVELY EVENING? I HOPE YOU ARE WELL BECAUSE I (THE GREAT PAPYRUS) WOULD LIKE TO OFFER YOU AN INVITATION TO MY HOUSE!!  
I THINK A NIGHT OF SPAGHETTI-MAKING IS DEFINITELY IN ORDER. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU GET THIS!

You smile, completely caught off guard by the kind message. You definitely were very easy to unravel when it came to nice words.

You HAD been planning of having a quiet night in, but... maybe you’d been having too many of those lately. Besides, you remember Papyrus, and he’d seemed very energetic and fun in your meeting at the store.

You contemplate it for another moment, and then text Papyrus back.

YOU: I’d love to come over tonight! See you in, say, an hour?

It takes Papyrus mere moments to see the message, and even less time to answer.

XXX-XXX-XXX: PERFECT! I’LL SEE YOU THEN!!

You chuckle a little, and hop off your couch, cracking your back carefully. You were looking forward to this— it has been a long time since you actually hung out with someone, especially someone knew.

You were also a little nervous (as you always were around new people) but it would be easier if you were cooking— your hands would be busy, and you would be calm. You wouldn’t have to focus entirely on the person either.

Well, looks like you have to get dressed now.


	4. Human Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you realize that some people literally have never seen a cook before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh?? All of your guys’s comments are so SWEET! I’ve been blushing all day—
> 
> I’m sorry this is such a shoddy chapter... I got really excited and wanted to write something ;-; 
> 
> I also sort of forced myself to write in the past tense, which messed with my flow a lot.
> 
> Do you prefer the past or present tense when reading? Please let me know!

Sans stretches, leaning across the couch slowly. It’d been a late day at work (as usual) and he was happy to be home.

However, it was a little annoying that a certain younger brother of his was currently banging around in the kitchen. A lot.

“Hey, watcha... doin’, bro?” Sans asked, tilting his head in Papyrus’s direction.

“Getting Ready For Our Guest, Of Course, Sans,” came the voice from the kitchen, acting as if it were obvious.

Sans sat up properly on the couch, his grin stretching a little. “Guest?”

“Yes. I’ve Invited That Pasta-Cooking Human Who We Met At The Store A Week Ago.”

Sans scratched at his own hands, blinking slowly. An arm reached over the couch and handed a phone to Sans, who took it and studied the text conversation it was open to.

Yep... (Y/N) was coming over to their house.

Sans didn’t know how to feel about that. His first reaction was to smile genuinely at the screen, because it was so rare these days to see Pap texting in all caps. He must’ve been really excited. Her answer was pretty cute as well... it seemed like maybe she was even looking forward to it? Or maybe he was reading too much into it.

In any case, she was going to arrive soon. Sans sat on the couch staring blankly into space as Papyrus bustled about getting ready.

In all honesty, Sans was thinking about maybe hiding up in his room, considering Papyrus was going to be cooking (a ‘recipe’ for disaster, heh) and... (Y/N) was going to be here. He’d already made a complete fool out of himself in front of her one time, he didn’t really need to do it again.

But on the other hand, maybe he could... redeem himself to her?

That was a crazy idea, though. He was crazy.

But she’d seemed so nice...

And in the end, it turned out, he’d been sitting on the couch for so long that he didn’t even get the chance to hide in his room.

The doorbell rang.

——————————

You rocked back and forth on your feet nervously. You’d gone with a casual outfit in the end— although the shirt was a little nicer then usual, you’d grabbed your trademark jeans. After all, you’d be cooking— it wasn’t wise to wear something you wouldn’t want dirty.

The door swung open, and you had to look up to see the skeleton standing in the doorway. He probably only had an inch or two before his skull knocked against the door frame.

With a wide grin, he reached down, and shook your hand with such enthusiasm any remnants of tiredness you might of had were lost.

And then he started talking. You felt your face heat up a little out of embarrassment, because, well, he was trying to talk to you— but at the same time you were relieved that you could at least TELL that he was talking.

Your eyes skirted down (looking down out of embarrassment was a habit of yours) and realized he was wearing an apron that read “KISS THE ~~COOK~~ GREAT PAPYRUS” in large letters. You snickered a little bit, and were therefore caught entirely off guard when the other skeleton pushed past his tall brother.

Sans, was it? You smiled sweetly, remembering that he’d been the one to sign to you in the store.

‘What’s up?’ You asked pleasantly. Sans’s large, red eye didn’t leave your face, but Papyrus suddenly wilted and looked at you with complete sorrow, waving his arms around in almost terror.

‘He says he’s sorry,’ Sans signed for you, his wide grin unmoving. ‘He forgot.’

You waved a hand dismissively as Papyrus watched you. ‘It’s fine. People are more rude then he was all the time.’

Sans’s grin... tightened around the edges? And he nodded, moving out of the way so that you can step inside.

Papyrus pushed you into the kitchen before you even have time to blink, but you do pass a table by the front that has nothing on it except for a rock on a plate.

You sincerely hoped that isn’t what you’re eating.

As Papyrus turned on the stove with great flamboyance, you decided to get your questions out of the way.

‘How much sign do know?’ You asked, leaning back against the counter.

Papyrus stopped what he was doing to watch you, eyebrows furrowing.

Sans tapped you on the shoulder and you jumped a little. You hadn’t even seen him next to you a few seconds ago.

‘My bro knows the alphabet,’ Sans signed, watching you intently. ‘That’s really... all.’

You pursed your lips a little, wondering how on earth this would work. You couldn’t really swap recipes if Papyrus couldn’t understand you.

‘You want... a translator?’ Sans asked nervously, watching you. You brightened almost immediately, thankful he was offering.

‘Yes, awesome! Thank you!’ You slowly turned towards Papyrus. ‘We can start now.’

Papyrus nodded, smiling, and turned the faucet on with gusto.

You helped the skeleton fill his pot and place it on the stove. He then pulled a package of store bought pasta out of his cupboard, dumping it in the pot.

‘You need to boil the water,’ you pointed out to Papyrus, and he turned up the heat.

The cooking was going great until Papyrus started to slice the tomatoes.

If ‘slice’ was even the right word.

He placed the tomatoes on the cutting board and simply began to smash them. You waved your hands at him before you could stop to think about what was polite, or monster culture.

‘Why not use a knife?’ You asked nervously, watching Papyrus mutilate the veggies.

You turned to look at Sans (who had been resting at the kitchen table this whole time). The shorter skeleton starts to move his hands.

‘My Captain taught me to picture the tomatoes as enemies... And smash them.’

You huffed a laugh, almost disbelieving. Sans’s expression proved that he was not joking.

‘Slicing then will probably be better for the pasta in the long run,’ you explained sheepishly. ‘Easier to make sauce.’

Papyrus seemed to consider this for a moment, and then nodded, getting new tomatoes out of the cupboard.

You sighed in relief, glad you hadn’t offended the skeleton.

You showed Papyrus how to slice with the knife and he seemed happy to mirror your actions. When you finished, you poured the tomatoes into a second pot, stirring it well.

When you turned to the side, you almost jumped out of your skin. Papyrus had turned the heat on the stove all the way up, and fire was licking the bottom of the pot.

You reached over immediately turned the stove down, flinching a little at Papyrus’s look of surprise.

‘His friend says that you must cook with passion,’ Sans signed, and then paused, listening. ‘And passion is the same as fire.’

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. You cannot wait to meet whoever it was that taught Papyrus to cook. You would give them a real sock in the shoulder.

‘You’ll burn the pasta like that’, you signed with exasperation. ‘Try... spices instead.’ You reaches into the cupboard (which... only had ingredients for pasta) and grabbed salt and pepper.

You leaned over the pot and sprinkled the two, feeling Papyrus’s interested gaze on you.

When the pasta was done, the taller skeleton proudly dished it up, practically glowing.

You sat at the table, rubbing your hands together gleefully. There wasn’t anything quite as satisfying as eating a meal you prepared yourself, as you had come to find.

Sans seemed reluctant to eat, trailing his fork around his plate. You and Papyrus ate your spaghetti with gusto. You were careful to not get sauce absolutely everywhere on your face.

The pasta was a little bit overcooked, but other then that, it tasted pretty good. You gave Papyrus two thumbs up and he puffed his chest out happily, chattering something.

‘Bro says that this pasta tastes much better then when I forced him to eat some of his own,’ Sans signed from his seat, and then eyed his own dish.

You blinked a few times incredulously. ‘This is only your second time eating pasta?’

Papyrus nodded, and you laughed.

‘He normally just cooks it,’ Sans signed for you slowly, his gaze intense. You’re not sure of the meaning behind that stare.

You nodded in understanding. ‘Happy to help you try good food, then!’

Sans and Papyrus both relax, and you realized that Sans’s plate was empty. You... hadn’t seen him eat at all.

When you done with dinner, Papyrus cleaned up the table (you offered to help, but he practically insisted) and showed you to the door, talking as he walked.

You shot a glance to the other brother, who signed with his trademark smile: ‘We’re happy to have you. Thanks for coming.’

You waved your hands almost everywhere, and then signed ‘Of course!’, and then Papyrus gave you a hug that could have crushed your windpipe.

As you drove home that night, you smiled. Despite the usual language barrier, that had actually been... fun.

You hoped to see them again soon.


	5. Tupperware Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you are forced to Interact with a Living Being, and it goes about as awkward as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is bad... sorry, I’ve been feeling burnt out lately when it comes to writing >_<
> 
> On the upside Horror!Sans is cute and makes me smile

The door knock seems much harder then the last time you did it.

You get very self conscious for a good second, wondering if you’ve knocked too hard and what exactly counted as “too hard”, and whether or not you would ever even know considering you couldn’t even hear your own knocks.

When the wooden door swings open under your hands, you flinch. 

Sans is standing there. He’s smiling at you— although, when you think about it, he’s always smiling. His face was almost fixed in place, and never really moved.

You studied him carefully, noticing the sweat beading on his skull. That, at least, was an indication of something. Embarrassment? 

.... You realize you’ve been standing in his doorway without saying anything for a whole minute.

Your mouth opens on reflex to do something, but it seems like Sans has finally fully registered your presence. His hands and shoulders move upward, the fluff of his hood brushing his cheeks, as he slowly signed out a phrase.

‘You’re back.’

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just nod a little briskly. ‘I am.’

You hadn’t noticed it before, with Papyrus in the room, but Sans is tall. At least a head taller then you, anyway. Papyrus may be a giant, but Sans is pretty large in his own right.

You’re so focused thinking about how much larger his hands must be then yours that you nearly startle when he signs something else.

‘Why?’

Why? Why what...? Your nose bunches up. What had you two just been talking about? You being here?

Your brain is running slower then usual. Why where you here again? Oh, right. You reach into your bag and carefully pull out one empty Tupperware container. It’s got some red sauce on the side, but other then that it’s probably okay.

You wordlessly hold out the dish, trying to maintain a straight face.

Sans’s single eye meets yours, then drops down to the spaghetti container. He’s staring for a while before there’s something akin to a flash of recognition.

‘That’s my brother’s.’

You nod, still holding it out to him. Papyrus had sent you home yesterday with all of the leftovers from your cooking. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to keep yourself from scarfing them down at work today.

So now you had to return his Tupperware. Maybe that wasn’t proper manners? You hadn’t been exactly sure, but you thought that most people liked to have their borrowed items returned as soon as possible.

Sans reaches out and takes the plastic container from you, turning around and slowly padding into the house towards the kitchen. You stare after the fur of his hood for a good long moment, contemplating if you should follow him inside.

Well, he’d left the door open. Fair game.

You take a few steps into the house, spotting the rock still sitting on the table. Only now it’s not covered in sprinkles.

There’s a nice little living room, with an old-looking couch and a television set on one wall. A staircase leads up to the second floor. There’s also a sock or two scattered about the floor, and several little pieces of paper or notes.

You smile a little to yourself. While the house isn’t messy, it gives off just the right amount of homey vibes to make you feel a little more at ease.

Sans taps you on the shoulder and you turn to smile at him eagerly. As always, he takes a second before signing to you.

‘I didn’t think you’d be back.’

You frown. That was a little bit of an unfair character judgment. You considered yourself the type of person to always bring someone’s Tupperware back.

Sans’s red gaze becomes unfocused. ‘...They usually don’t come back.’

Oh.

‘I’m sorry—‘

‘Don’t,’ Sans signed under his skull with his left hand, using his right to grab your wrist and pull it down. ‘Don’t apologize.’

‘Oh,’ you sign with your other hand, and Sans releases you and steps back, rubbing his skull nervously. His grin is tight. With an odd expression, he meanders over to the couch and slumps into it, patting the cushion next to him in invitation.

You accept by sitting on the couch, although you try not to sit too close to the skeleton. You don’t want to cross any boundaries.

He tilts his skull to the side and looks into the distance, beginning to sign. You have to crane your neck to make out what he’s saying before he turns to you.

‘Most people come over because they want to make nice with monsters,’ Sans signs, his posture slumped. ‘They think if they hang out with two skeletons once, then they’re cool people. It... breaks my bothers’ heart every time a new friend stops coming by.’

You wince. That sounded awful. And yet, you could actually relate. Tons of people had wanted to be “friends with the deaf girl” but they had eventually given up once they realized they couldn’t even speak the same language.

‘I really am sorry,’ you sign. ‘I promise I’m not like that.’

Sans waves you off. ‘I’m sure you’re not. You already know what it’s like.’

You breathe a sigh of relief, which gets a curious look from the skeleton. You’re studying his face again. It’s really so interesting... all the jagged edges, the deep eye... his smile is oddly thin, but it seems like it’s rounded out while he was talking. The smile is smaller.

Weird.

You eventually realize you’re just sitting on this dudes’ couch staring at him, and you stand up, trying not to flush red.

‘I’ll get going now.’

Sans nods, not bothering to get up. His hood fluff is tickling the sides of his cheekbones.

You walk over to the door (which nobody closed) and step outside, letting the brisk air hit your face. There’s a tap on your shoulder and you stop, turning and looking up to meet eyes with Sans.

‘Would you like to... hang out... again?’ He asks, and maybe it’s just you but his phalanges look like they’re shaking.

‘That sounds awesome,’ you sign, emphasizing the “awesome” by pumping your palms up towards his face. His smile changes again— man, you’re going to have to learn what that means.

And with that, you’re on your way to your car, buckling up so you can drive back home.

Sans was surprisingly just as sweet as his brother, if in a different way.

Maybe you’d hang out again with him soon. He could be the “guy who was friends with a deaf girl” and you could be the “human who befriended a ‘terrifying’ skeleton monster”. 

You smile as you turn the corner onto your street. That sounds perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ everyone I’ve ever faced away from while signing so you had to crane your neck to understand me: I’m sorry. It’s a habit. Please scold me whenever I do it.


	6. Mon Amie??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you may or may not enjoy talking to someone besides your own head at midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m feeling guilty for not uploading so enjoy another chapter ;)
> 
> Experimenting with how the texting looks so expect it to change sometimes sorry

You turn away from your laptop for a moment, rubbing your eyes. You’ve been staring at a screen for ages, your eyes hurt. 

With a sigh, you lean forward on your desk. And then... there’s a slight vibration. You sit up, pressing your hand into the desk and feeling the buzzing sensation of your phone going off. Surprised to be getting a notification at this time of night, you pick up your smartphone. The screen lights up your face with the newest message.

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: HELLO HUMAN!!**

Swiping the phone open, you tap out a response.

**YOU: Hey Papyrus! How’s it going?**

You smile a little. It was always nice when you got messages. Considering you didn’t have many friends in real life, anytime you talked to someone online felt fun and comfortable.

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: IT’S GOING GREAT. BUT ALSO TERRIBLE. BECAUSE! SANS TOLD ME YOU CAME OVER TODAY!**

You blink at your phone for a second.

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO SAY HELLO! I WAS AT WORK.**

You sigh in relief. For a moment, you worried you’d been intruding.

**YOU: Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: DON’T APOLOGIZE! I’LL MAKE SURE TO PLAN A WONDERFUL TIME TOGETHER SOON. ALTHOUGH, MAYBE YOU SHOULD TALK TO SANS ABOUT THAT.**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: HE LOVES PLANNING.**

**YOU: Sans?**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: YOU HAVE HIS PHONE NUMBER, RIGHT?**

Oh. Oh, you did! Papyrus had given it to you when you met at the grocery store.  
Searching through your contacts, you quickly found an unnamed number.

You think for a moment about what you want to say and then type out a message.

**YOU: Hey, is this Sans?**

A moment passes.

**XXX-XXX-XXX: who’s asking**

**YOU: (Y/N) (L/N)**

You’re honestly a little surprised he’d answered at this time of night.

**XXX-XXX-XXX: oh. cool**

**YOU: Papyrus said you’d like to plan out a day for us all to hang out**

**XXX-XXX-XXX: k cool**

You snort to yourself, rubbing the sides of your device.

**YOU: When’s a good time for you two?**

**XXX-XXX-XXX: dunno**

You sigh and bring your fingers up to massage your temples for a second.

**YOU: Does next weekend work?**

**XXX-XXX-XXX: yea**

**YOU: Okay cool.**

...

**YOU: How was your day?**

**XXX-XXX-XXX: nice. got a visit frm a p cool human**

**YOU: Aw, thanks**

**XXX-XXX-XXX: not u. sum othr human also came ovr tday**

**YOU: Wow okay**

**XXX-XXX-XXX: jk**

**YOU: I figured.**

He doesn’t respond, so you sigh to yourself and turn off the phone with a smile.

A warm feeling resides in your chest. It’s... nice that these two want to talk to you. It feels incredible to get messages from someone you consider... your friend.

Yeah. 

A friend.

———————————

Sans watched his phone with his single eye carefully, allowing himself to sigh throatily.

Something felt different about this. Normally, when a human came by, Sans only felt suspicious. And wary.

But with this woman, it was a little different.

Maybe it was because he didn’t have to talk to her. Maybe it was because she couldn’t hear how his voice wavered or got shaky when he was nervous and upset. 

Maybe it was because he knew she wouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.

But... whatever the case...

The human was slowly becoming something of a... friend?

Yeah. Maybe.

A friend.

 

And stars, he was not gonna show just how happy he was to finally have a friend again.


	7. Secret Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Papyrus discovers what you do for a living and is throughly prepared to mention it every five seconds for the rest of time.

You wipe your brow and sigh, smiling a little. As much as you hated it when service was busy, you felt like you’d gotten a lot done and you were proud.

You wash your hands for the sixteenth time, scrubbing them energetically as you prepared to work on some lasagna. You personally believe that your lasagna was pretty good, but, you were obviously biased.

As you pull on yet another pair of gloves and went to work getting ingredients, the door opens and Maggy walks in (luckily within your sight range). You look at her and smile brightly. She manages some sort of expression back, and you huff a little laugh.

Maggy may be an apathetic, bored teenager, but she somehow has the patience to work with you the most out of anybody else here. You two just click in that special way that only two poorly paid sad employees can.

Not that you’re complaining. You love your job, most of the time.

‘Someone want to send their compliments to you, yet again,’ Maggy says with a pair of finger guns. 

You grin and wink at her, hands busy with the ground beef for your lasagna. She rolls her eyes, hiding a smile.

‘Yeah, But, they actually want to talk to you.’

You perk up and face her. You’ve got nothing in the oven at the moment, and compliments in person is always the best way to receive them. You wave your hand in the sign for ‘bring in here’. Maggy seems to get the gist of it and tilts her head to the side, red hair falling back.

‘Yeah, But it’s a monster.’

You bristle immediately, because you can’t tell from your lip-reading if that was meant to be a prejudiced comment. But as you look at Maggy’s face, you see nothing but apathy and mild concern for your opinion.

Your shoulders relax and you wave your hand, in an universal gesture of ‘it’s fine.’

Maggy nods and goes out of the doors again, returning hardly a second later. You’re facing your beef and pasta again, so when she pats you on the shoulder and you turn around you’re extremely surprised to see a whirlwind of orange and brown zooming around the kitchen.

The whirlwind stops moving to look at you and talk very fast and very excitedly, then freezing with his partially smashed mouth open as he recognizes you.

‘P-A-P-Y-R-U-S?!’ You sign, gaping. He says something back, and Maggy looks between you two with an air of mild confusion.

‘Uh,’ Maggy says, ‘he says I have to tell you because you can’t read his lips.’

You nod once.

‘He says that you make very good pasta, and that he didn’t realize you were actually a world famous chef.’

Your face slowly heats up. You sign abashedly at him. ‘I’m not a world famous chef, I’m just a cook for this restaurant.’

Papyrus bounces up and down in his adorable brown and orange winter sweater.

Maggy smiles. ‘He says he’s pretty sure you’re trying to get embarrassed and deny it, but he already knows the truth.’

You sigh and bury your red face in your hands. You really aren’t a world famous chef, but goodness, this skeleton is just so sweet!

Papyrus grabs you by the arm and you yelp in surprise as he drags you out of the kitchen doors. Several people look at you strangely, but you just grin and wave, lasagna forgotten for now.

He stops at a small booth table, where Sans is sitting with his skull in his hands and shut eyes. You blink several times in surprise— how on EARTH does a skeleton shut his eyes?!— and Sans sits up, probably in reaction to Papyrus You is banging the table excitedly.

Sans’s red eye focuses on you, something changing in his face. He takes in your uniform. 

‘You work here?’

Papyrus shouts something (judging by the way the neighboring table flinches) and Sans’s smile suddenly reaches his eyes. The difference shocks you.

‘You’re a COOK?’ He signs, and you have a feeling he’s going to take advantage of that fact the next time you’re at his house.

...Why does that not bother you at all?

You nod, blush suddenly returning. Sans points to his burger. ‘You make this?’

You affirm again. There’s only a few cooks at this very small restaurant.

‘This is literally the best food I’ve had in my life,’ the skeleton signs to you, giving two thumbs up. You giggle a little, throat tickling, and Sans’s face changes so drastically you’re almost concerned.

Papyrus hugs you tightly, and Sans translates all the compliments you get about the “very best spaghetti he’s ever had” and how “you really must teach him everything you know about cooking!” And before you know it, your shift is over, and Papyrus is offering you a ride home and refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer.

(More like he couldn’t even understand if you did try to say no, but eh.)

So Sans is offering you shotgun in a red convertible that has it’s roof down, and you gasp.

You always loved convertibles as a kid, and apparently that childlike wonder has not been lost. You marvel as you climb into the seat and look up at the night sky.

Sans jumps into the drivers’ spot, which surprises you for some reason, and Papyrus sits behind you, trying not to kick the seat with his long legs.

As you’re driving, you simply watch the stars with a soft smile. The stillness is peaceful, if... sad.

Sans looks at you from the corner of his eye every once in a while, but keeps his hands on the wheel and doesn’t try to talk to you. About halfway back to your place there’s a buzz against your thigh and you reach into your pocket to retrieve your phone.

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT?**

You suppress the urge to turn around and look at Papyrus behind you, typing out a message.

**YOU: Even better now that you guys are here! It’s been a while!**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: IT CERTAINLY HAS.**

A pause. Is that all he needed? You almost set your phone down when—

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: I DO NOT MEAN TO BE OFFENSIVE OR AWKWARD, BUT... IS THERE POSSIBLY A WAY FOR ME TO LEARN TO SPEAK IN HANDS?**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: IT SADDENS ME THAT I CANNOT TALK TO YOU LIKE SANS CAN. I WAS WONDERING IF YOU HAVE ANY BOOKS ON THE SUBJECT?**

Your eyes suddenly swim with tears and you reach up to wipe them with your sleeve. You try to be surreptitious, but Papyrus notices.

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: I’M SORRY, HAVE I UPSET YOU?!**

**YOU: Absolutely not! I’m just not used to people wanting to learn whole languages just to talk to me. It’s very kind of you.**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: WELL, WHO WOULDN’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU?**

The world doesn’t deserve this creature.

**YOU: The Internet is a great place for this. Here’s a few websites and YouTube channels you can try. If you’re looking for specific translations, Handspeak and Lifeprint are good.**

**YOU: I’d recommend learning specific words you use often first. Please, thank you, sorry, hello, how to introduce yourself... anything like that.**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: THANK YOU!! I SHALL BEGIN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I AM A MASTER OF LEARNING, AFTER ALL.**

You giggle to yourself, catching Sans shifting from the corner of your eyes.

**YOU: You absolutely are!**

Sans taps you on the shoulder and, lo and behold, it’s your house.

‘Is this the right place?’ The hoodied skeleton signs with worry. ‘I’m... not very good at following directions.’

‘This is right,’ you confirm, scooping up your purse and getting out of the car. You wave to the two brothers as you unlock the door. ‘Thanks for the ride, and the excellent talk, Papyrus!’

Sans must’ve translated for you, because Papyrus smiles big and brightly from the backseat, waving.

As you disappear inside and shut the door, you smile. And realize you’re very happy that they now know where you live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well whaddya know, Reader’s a COOK!
> 
> Makes sense after that spaghetti chapter huh? Lol
> 
> All that stuff about learning ASL is 100% accurate! If you’re bored, sad, or just want to, I recommend learning it. It’s pretty easy, considering it’s a visual language based on words you already know. Like learning to use pictures to communicate.
> 
> The websites mention by Reader are real ones that are pretty helpful if you’re interested ;D


	8. Bridge Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author is forced to include something angsty for the sake of plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interested to see what you think about the first angst to ever happen here...
> 
>  
> 
> !!TW!!: Implied/Referenced/Discussed Suicidal Thoughts/Attempted Actions.
> 
> There is a Summary at the end of the chapter if you don’t want to read.

You drive as fast as you possibly can without breaking the speed limit, eyes narrowed in concentration. Your fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white as your heart rate starts steadily climbing.

It’s ironically one of the only things you can hear— the pounding in your blood alerting you to a bad situation that you already know about.

It’s getting dark.

That’s all you’re thinking, all your brain can process. You’d taken too long at the store today (probably by looking for Sans, who apparently only worked the night shift) and you had to get home as soon as physically possible.

It’s getting really dark.

And as you’re speeding across the small old town bridge you hit the breaks so hard that he vibrations rattle your bones.

There’s someone... on the bridge?!

This someone is sitting on the railing, facing away from the road and out to the river beyond. You take in a breath quickly— this bridge has been rebuilt several times, but it still maintained a very sad reputation.

You glance up at the sun. It can’t be that close to sunset. You still have... seven minutes for your three minute drive home.

There’s nobody else on this bridge.

It’s up to you.

You swing open the door and leap out of your still-running car, taking several purposeful steps towards the person on the railing. They don’t even turn towards you, but their brown hair flits ever so slightly in the breeze.

You stop behind them, reaching over to tap their shoulder. You may be nervous, but the will to save a life always overcomes the shyness.

The person turns to look at you, squinting at the fading sun. You breathe in a little sharply when you see that this person can’t be more then nineteen. What are they doing on This bridge?

‘Why are you up here?’

The teenager stares at you, wind flowing around and framing their tan face. It’s at this moment you realize that they probably don’t understand sign.

‘Came here to think.’ You blink in surprise— this person hadn’t even given an indication of reception. Their face remained blank, emotionless.

You gaze down at the water below, which is reflecting the setting sun.

‘Just think?’ You sign dubiously, and the adolescent smiles a little.

‘No. I wanted to see if I would do it today.’

Your fingers tighten around the railing. That is what you were worried about. They still don’t show any fear, gazing out at the sunset with a half smile.

‘I haven’t seen a sunset like this in a long time,’ they signed suddenly, meeting your eyes. Theirs were like brown pools of amber and red, reflecting the sun. ‘It reminds me of better things.’

You nod silently, wondering what you could say to stop this person, and counting down until you ran out of minutes to go home.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ You tried subtly, but the teen reads between the lines easily and laughs.

‘If it makes you feel better, I won’t do anything today,’ they promise, and then cross their heart. You furrow your eyebrows.

‘What about ever?’

‘Sorry,’ the person replies, shrugging and facing the sun again, amber light bathing their skin. The light in the distance fades into a reddish-pink, sinking. ‘I’ve done a lot of awful things. Stuff that you couldn’t even imagine. Don’t feel sorry for me, I don’t deserve it.’

You huff in annoyance, reaching out to comfort the teen, before thinking better of it and pulling your hand back.

‘Everyone deserves forgiveness,’ you sign, watching them carefully. They take a deep breath.

‘Maybe I did once. But I don’t anymore.’ They turn to you and smile with their whole face. ‘Do me a favor, okay? Take care of yourself. Somebody really cares about you.’

You stare at them in shock, blinking a few times. You honestly don’t know how to respond to that. It sounded oddly prophetic.

‘Stay Determined,’ they grin, and then they hop off the railing onto the bridge. They stick their hands in the pockets of their worn hoodie and walk away from you, never turning around or looking back.

You feel a small sense of satisfaction knowing that you stopped someone from jumping off the Death Bridge, and startle when you notice the state of the sun.

It’s nearly set.

You want to scream and cry, forcing yourself behind the wheel of your still-running car as you speed drive back home as fast as possible.

Your turn the corner a little too harshly but luckily don’t hit anything, driving down the road to your house. The sun is almost all the way down behind you— the east is already too dark. Much too dark.

You pull into the driveway, already unbuckling as you make it to the garage and park, nearly ripping your keys out of the ignition. You trip as you tumble your way out, dropping your purse. Standing in the driveway you freeze, looking up at the sky. The sun has set. You’ve made it home just in time. You breathe in, and out, slowly.

All is well, and you sink to the ground, leaning against the car and listening to your pulse slow down. The night sky glitters above you, and you watch the stars with a smile. The Stars always made you feel better.

All is well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I’m honestly sorry bout the angst but.. we gotta have plot somehow 
> 
> Also we got some hints about Reader’s backstory, and a surprise visit from a character I did not think would be in this story.
> 
>  
> 
> Summary: Reader is driving home with little regard for speeding laws because for some unknown reason she is panicking about driving in the dark. On the way she spots a kid on the Death Bridge of her town and decides the need to get home before sunset is overruled by the need to save the kid. Reader pulls over and talks things out with the kid, who insists they don’t deserve forgiveness but promises not to jump today. They leave and then Reader drives home just barely before sunset, narrowly avoiding a panic attack and feeling satisfied about saving a life.


	9. Two Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you realize Sans uses a flip phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your guys’s comments are really what keep me going! I’m glad you like my silly little story, and know that I cherish everything you comment, especially if it’s theories haha
> 
> Now onwards, to a sleepy insomniac Reader!

It’s one AM and you can’t sleep.

Perhaps the incident on the bridge with the kid yesterday has messed you up. Or perhaps you’re just in a sour mood because you haven’t run into Sans at the grocery store for three days. Or, most likely, you’re still very shaken by your close call with driving the other day.

Whatever the case, you can’t sleep.

Very carefully, and for the fifth time that night, you pull your phone off the side table and turn it on.

No new messages.

You sigh, unlocking it and checking Tumblr for late night posts. There were lots of people as sleepless as you, hopefully. Not to mention different time zones...

There’s nothing of too much interest. Not since you checked fifteen minutes ago. You groan, dropping your head on the pillows. Your throat creaks in irritation at the use of your voice. 

If only you had any friends that would be up at night. Well, it wouldn’t hurt too much to leave them a message they might see when they wake up, would it?

Wait. You don’t have any friends for that either.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true... there’s Sans and Papyrus. Two monsters who you’re pretty sure were becoming something like friends. Two people you think won’t mind if you leave an odd nighttime message.

You take a deep breath and open up your messaging app.

**YOU: Hey uh**

**YOU: I know it’s weird to text people at night but I’m having trouble sleeping so I just wanted to say hi. You don’t have to reply to this when you see it in the morning. Sorry haha**

With a sigh, you flip over in bed and lean back against your pillow. Now you at least feel like you’ve done something. The satisfaction is very nice, your eyelids slowly dropping halfway.

Your phone buzzes, causing your eyes to shoot open.

**SANS-SATIONAL: its not weird**

**SANS-SATIONAL: y cant u sleep?**

An odd smile flits across your face, and you realize how genuinely happy you are that he’s texting you. Somehow, the idea that someone else in the world is also looking at a little screen while talking to you, is making you feel so much better.

**YOU: Honestly I’m not so sure. My brain just doesn’t want to turn off tonight**

**SANS-SATIONAL: i feel u**

**SANS-SATIONAL: anythng i can do?**

Whoop, there it is. Your chest and neck heating up as you suddenly feel irrationally warm and happy. Darn it, looks like somebody knows your weakness: being loved and cared for.

**YOU: No**

**YOU: But texting does help. Thanks**

**SANS-SATIONAL: np**

You sigh, cooling down enough to formulate a question of your own.

**YOU: Why are YOU awake at this time of night? It’s almost 2**

**...**

**SANS-SATIONAL: its knda weird**

**YOU: It’s not weird,** you respond immediately, echoing his earlier sentiment. It takes Sans a minute to respond.

**SANS-SATIONAL: if i tell u, u got 2 tell me smthn**

You blink in confusion at your screen for a minute.

**YOU: Sounds fair.**

**YOU: Now spill, bonehead**

**...**

**SANS-SATIONAL: i get a lot of nghtmares**

You quickly feel bad, face falling. The poor thing... from what you understand, monsters had had it pretty rough. It’s so sad that he’s still having it bad. In your opinion, this skeleton deserves happiness more then anyone.

**SANS-SATIONAL: told u it was weird**

**YOU: No no! It’s really not, Sans. I know tons of adults who get terrible night terrors.**

**YOU: I just feel bad I can’t help.**

It’s a full minute before he responds, and you almost fall asleep.

**SANS-SATIONAL: thank you.**

**YOU: Of course! I’m always willing to help my friends.**

Another long pause.

**SANS-SATIONAL: were friends?**

**YOU: Duh! Do you think I’d make my world class spaghetti for just anyone?**

**YOU: But seriously. I really like you and your brother. I hope you guys like me, too.**

Oh shoot, WHY had you sent that?! You’re coming on way too strong again, he’s not going to want to be your friend, he’ll realize how desperate you are—

**SANS-SATIONAL: think ur our fav human rn. duh we like u**

And there goes your neck again, heating up because of some nice words. You hurry to think of a way to change the subject.

**YOU: Why do you use so much chat speak anyway? Is it that hard to just type it out lol**

**SANS-SATIONAL: hey! i doubt uve ever hd 2 deal w/ the tiny bttons on a flip phne**

**...**

**YOU: Oh my gosh. You use a FLIP PHONE?? Why not just get a Smartphone then?!**

**SANS-SATIONAL: waste of mun, my fngrs dnt wrk on the screens**

You were starting to understand why texting took so long for him.

**YOU: I am So Sorry my dude.**

**SANS-SATIONAL: its cool**

**SANS-SATIONAL: hey i havnt askd u the question yet!**

**YOU: Lol okay shoot**

**SANS-SATIONAL: can it b persnl**

**YOU: Whatever you want dude it’s your question**

**...**

**SANS-SATIONAL: where r ur parents?**

You smile softly, suddenly tempted to go into your photo album and look for pictures of them.

**YOU: They work at the hospital in the city. I live here because, well, I’m not for the city life.**

**SANS-SATIONAL: do u visit each othr?**

**YOU: Yeah. When we can. They’re pretty busy, but it’s nice when they come by.**

**YOU: What about you? Got any parent issues?**

**SANS-SATIONAL: dont hve parents**

**...**

**YOU: I’m sorry.**

**SANS-SATIONAL: dont b**

**SANS-SATIONAL: cant b hlped**

Finished with that sad topic, you start talking about something else. Somehow, the two of you start going off track about weird and different nonsense topics like internet culture. (Which he hilariously only understood some of.) You and the skelebrother exchange until you can’t keep your eyes open any longer and you check the time.

**YOU: Oh my gosh Sans it’s 4 am and I have work tomorrow**

**SANS-SATIONAL: k sleepn beauty**

**SANS-SATIONAL: ill ttyl?**

You smile, still not quite believing someone like him wanted to talk to you.

**YOU: Yeah dude**

**YOU: Good night!**

**SANS-SATIONAL: goodnight**

You turn off your phone and fall asleep almost instantly, the pillow sinking under your head and feeling more comfortable then ever. And for the first time in a long time, you sleep peacefully, with no sounds of screeching tires or smashing machinery.


	10. A Cup Of Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a conversation with someone who does not exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, your guys’s comments and reactions to the last chapter were hilarious! It’s so flattering that you all get excited about the things I write! <3
> 
> I’m trying to pace myself with this story, but you guys make me want to get to the good bits quicker ^w^

“What a nice day for tea,” you muse to yourself as you pour another cup. You don’t actually recognize this particular brand, but it tastes amazing— a feeling of peace washes over you as you sit back in your chair and gaze at the sun.

You’ve always loved the view of the sunset from the back patio, so you’d made sure the two chairs and table were facing the west when you reorganized. With a sigh, you sit back, the wicker creaking as you get comfortable.

“It certainly is,” someone agrees, and you turn your head to see that someone is sitting in you other chair, watching the sunset with shining eyes. It’s a large... monster? A lion? A goat? It’s got big eyes, anyhow.

“Oh,” you realize. “Would you like some?” You hold out the box of tea to the monster, offering it. You can’t really read the side, so you’re not sure about the flavor, but the monsters’ eyes light up.

“Yes, please,” it says in a deep voice, and reaches over with large hand to pluck a tea bag out of the box. You tilt your head to the side, trying to place this particular voice. It’s deep, rumbly, and warm.

The monster makes its own cup of tea quickly and easily, lifting the dish up to its mouth to drink. You wonder where that teacup had been, because you don’t think you own one that large.

Crossing your legs and watching the sky, you hum a little tune to yourself. It’s an old song, but definitely a favorite.

“The weather is so nice,” says the large monster in your patio chair. You’d normally think it was fishing for conversation topics, but its voice actually sounds very genuine. “Great day for a game of catch.”

You smile, wondering if this monster has a family, and how cute they must look playing catch in the yard. For a moment, your head is full of imagining people playing and having fun here, and you’re filled with a sense of happiness.

“You’re lonely,” says the monster suddenly, but it’s voice is so graceful that you aren’t startled.

“I... suppose so,” you agree, sipping your tea. “But it can’t be helped. People don’t want to talk to me when...” you trail off, becoming confused and scrunching up your nose.

“It’s okay to let people in,” the great big monster insists, and you look over at him. “In fact, I’m sure there’s people even now just waiting to be accepted as your friend.”

“That’s a nice thought,” you laugh, setting your teacup back on the side table. “But, I’m not really worth it. Who’d put in the work to know me? I’m honestly rather needy.”

“I’d put in the work,” the monster says kindly, and you meet his eyes. There’s a moment of silence as something teeters a bit on the edge of your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you ask, tilting your head to the side with confusion. “Do I know you?”

“Most likely not,” he sighs, placing his teacup next to yours on the side table. It’s much larger. “Perhaps in another place, and another time.”

“Oh, okay,” you agree, stretching. “Do you want some more tea?”

The large monster stares off into the sunset, his features softening.

“No. That is okay.”

For a long moment, the two of you watch as the sun completely sets, and, eventually, you can’t see each other anymore. The stars are big and bright and beautiful, and you watch them with barely disguised awe.

You feel even more relaxed in the quiet darkness, leaning into your chair.

“Do you like to sing?” The voice asks, and you jump. You had almost forgotten it was there.

“I love to sing,” you smile wistfully. You don’t sing anymore because... you search the stars for your favorite constellation.

“Can you sing for me now?” He asks, and it’s such a humble and peaceful sounding request that you can’t help but oblige.

You pick an old favorite and start singing. The second you start, it’s almost like you’ve been liberated, and you can’t help but marvel at the rise and fall of your own voice. It feels like it’s been forever since you heard yourself sing.

_“And you ask me what I want this year_  
And I try to make this kind and clear,  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days.  
Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in strings,  
And designer love and empty things,  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days. 

_So take these words_  
And sing out loud  
Cause everyone is forgiven now!  
Cause tonight's the night the world begins again.” 

The monster stands up, his shape lost on you in the dark.

“Thank you, child. You have a lovely singing voice.”

You giggle softly, blushing. “Why thank you.”

Turning away from him, you cough into your arm. You don’t understand why, but your throat is suddenly very sore.

There’s an odd tingling feeling, suddenly— a buzzing in your lower arms that shocks you. It just keeps buzzing, in a specific pattern that you recognize, before you blink a few times.

“That’s my alarm.”

And then you’re awake, scrambling around in your sheets looking for your phone. When you finally trap it under your fingers you turn off the alarm, relishing the calm as the buzzing stops.

You sigh and lean back on your pillows. That was great sleep you just had. There’s a lingering warmth from your dream, too— you’d enjoyed whatever it was you were dreaming about.

You were talking to someone, you think? But the more you try to remember what the dream was about, the more you doubt your own memory.

Ah, well. It was a good dream.

And then you remember that you have to get up for work, so you get out of bed with the force of somebody who knows they have not gotten enough sleep.


	11. [Prompts!]

Hey guys. As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve been unable to update this story in an entire month.

I’m about to explain why, but if you’d prefer the short version, skip to the bottom of this.

I got very sick, so as I was trapped in my house for two weeks I basically lost my mind.

Around this time the entire internet was going beserk over the Homestuck Epilogues. Because I was bored out of mind, I decided, “hey, why not,” and read all of Homestuck. It was surprisingly good and I read it nonstop for another two weeks.

My internet is working in my house again also, which means I now have access to internet all the time and spend much more time messing around online then I do writing. Sorry.

Also a friend of mine got married and I had to attend the rehearsal and reception of that, which was fun but time-consuming.

The final and worst problem is that I don’t actually know what to write for this story. I never fully did, but it’s worse right now because I’m feeling uninspired. I have half a chapter written but it’s not going anywhere.

So, I’d like to ask all of you to please put writing prompts in the comments. I’ll take almost anything (appropriate obviously) and for clarification Sans and Reader are not at a Romantic point yet, they still need to get to know each other.

If you could give me ideas for chapters, that would incredible!

Thanks so much and I’m sorry for the radio silence >_<

The good news is if you’re into Homestuck I wrote a few things for that you can check out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR:
> 
> I’m sorry for the lack of chapters, I’ve been busy. I’m taking prompts/requests so put some in the comments!


	12. Shopping Spree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy I’m back!
> 
> Thank you all for the support and the lovely plot ideas, I’m going to try and use all of them! 
> 
> Seriously thanks for having so much patience ^_^

Buzzing fills the air. You blink a few times and brush off your apron, trying to pinpoint the sensation.

Ah, your back pocket. You fish out your phone to check it, oblivious to the food bits you get all over the case.

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: HELLO HUMAN!**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: THE WEBSITE FOR THIS RESTAURANT INSINUATES THAT THE DAYTIME SHIFT ENDS IN ABOUT TWO MINUTES. AM I CORRECT IN THIS ASSUMPTION?**

You brush your hair out of your eyes, unknowingly getting pasta sauce on your forehead.

**YOU: Uh, yeah, actually! Why, you got something planned? ;)**

**THE GREAT PAPYRUS: I HAVE GOT THE BESTEST OF PLANS!! MEET ME OUTSIDE IN TWO MINUTES.**

You shrug, knowing that you hadn’t planned anything anyway, and finish up the sauce you’d been working on with a smile.

A warm feeling burst in your chest as you walked outside to see Papyrus standing in front of his convertible with a huge smile that isn’t marred by his crooked teeth.

He’s waving excitedly to you and you giggle as he lifts you up under your arms like a cat and plops you down in the shotgun seat of the red car. He strides over to get in his own seat and promptly starts the car, steering it downtown.

You lean out of the window, letting your hair get tussled by the air. This truly is very exiting— you can see why Papyrus likes his car so much. You feel like a dog enjoying leaning out the window.

When Papyrus stops the car, you have no idea where you are. It seems to be a shop, but you’ve never been to this area of the city and thus can’t recognize anything.

You look over to Papyrus, unsure of where you were.

He grins and gives you two thumbs up, so you shrug and just decide to go along with it.

When you get inside, you realize that it’s a clothing store built in dedication to the MTT brand.

‘Wow!’ You sign, looking around in surprise. You’re not really sure... _what_ to think. The clothing is a very... interesting style, seemingly a mix of box-shaped clothing and anime fashion.

‘What are we doing here?’ You sign to Papyrus in confusion, and then realize he can’t understand you and consequently start turning red.

‘I... think... you... want... know... why?’ Papyrus asks, and then gestures to the entire store.

You smile, and copy his thumbs up from earlier. It seems that Papyrus knows a few less complicated signs, and you can actually communicate (albeit sparingly).

‘You! Clothing!” He signs excitedly, grinning.

Oh, well, maybe he doesn’t know quite enough signs to get what he needs across. You shrug, not very surprised. It’s really impressive that he knows what he does already!

Papyrus sweeps the thumbs of his open palms down his shirt and points to you again. You sigh and nod your head, wondering what he possibly had in store pertaining to “you” and “clothes”.

And then he grabs your arm, promptly causing you to bristle, as he pulls you further into the store. 

You avert your eyes from most of the colors, which seem bent on giving you a headache. When the tall skeleton stops pulling you, he freezes in front of a display.

He seems to be talking to himself, pulling down outfits and looking at them, and you busy yourself with watching the people in the store. It seems to be mainly monster-populated, although there’s several humans as well.

Papyrus pulls an outfit out of the rack that is considerably less terrible then the other outfits, but still quite horrible. You grimace at the sight of it, but it’s clear what he wants you to do as he shoves you towards a dressing room.

You mentally prepare yourself for this impromptu fashion show and try on several outfits. Each one is more ridiculous then the last, but you find your sour mood lifting as you and the tall skeleton giggle at how funny you look in the box-themed attire.

You step out of the dressing stall once again, this time wearing a dress that is quite literally a chandelier, but Papyrus isn’t looking at you. You follow his wistful gaze towards one of the screens mounted on a wall. It’s a televised program of a robotic host. There’s subtitles, but you still can’t quite figure out what is going on because the host seems to have gone off on a tangent about his new beauty line.

‘Who’s that?’ You sign, and then when Papyrus is looking you sign again.

‘M-E-T-T-A-T-O-N,’ Papyrus explains with no further elaboration. He sends a few more sad glances at the television, then claps and faces you.

‘See?’ He asks, and you obligatorily spin in the dress, grinning a little despite the somber change in mood.

‘Great!’ He pushes his gloves out in front of him, smiling. ‘Now buy.’

What? You blink, and then frown, because no way you’re going to buy any of this ridiculous stuff for REAL when you look absolutely horrendous in 90% of it, but Papyrus scoops up the bag where he’s stuffed some of his favorites and sprints for the counter, so you hurry to take off the chandelier (you’re still just wearing your work clothes underneath) and chase after him.

You just manage to catch up to him while he’s talking to the cashier, signing that it’s really not necessary because you have quite enough clothes, but he’s already waving his goodbyes and then dragging you out. 

You frown as he hands you the bag, grinning.

‘But... pay?’ You sign, hoping Papyrus hasn’t just stolen a bag of (somehow) designer clothing.

‘I pay,’ Papyrus tells you, pointing to himself, like it was obvious, and then he opens his car door. You start flushing, throughly embarrassed that this tall skeleton had just bought tons of clothing for you.

‘That’s really— you didn’t need—‘ Papyrus waves you away, and then turns in the direction of the road, sufficiently unable to see your hands any longer.

Extremely flustered, you buckle your seatbelt, and keep your eyes and hands on your lap for the remainder of the drive.

When you feel the car parking, you look up and smile, getting out of the car to stretch. You then realize with the grace of a falling duck that this isn’t your house.

You shoot Papyrus a glare as he looks all too pleased with himself.

‘Dinner!’ He signs with a grin, and then lets you both inside. He ducks considerably to avoid hitting his head on the doorway, shutting it behind you.

You turn around and suddenly there’s Sans.

You leap out of your skin a little— oh, haha, that’s like a skeleton joke... (you wonder if skeleton jokes would offend these two? Sans seems too laid back for it but you never know)— and step backward onto Papyrus’s toes.

‘Sup?’ The shorter skeleton signs, and you have to come to terms with his appearance all over again. You like to think you’re not racist but his large presence is sometimes disconcerting, especially with the gash in his head and the red eyes.

Nevertheless you return his greeting with a smile, and his eye wanders slowly to the bag in your hands with the MTT label clearly branded on the side. His gaze travels suspiciously up towards his brother and Papyrus shrugs gleefully, saying something that must’ve been about dinner because Sans nods and ambles toward the kitchen.

You follow him, asking if you could maybe help? But he waves you off and sits you at the counter with a lazy smile.

‘We... got it... covered.’ Sans then pulls a pan out of his cabinet, and you’re forced to sit and twiddle your thumbs while he adds things into his mixture like eggs. Papyrus comes in to help eventually, bumbling around in a gleeful manner as he and Sans gracefully avoid each other in the kitchen with the air of people with practice.

While they’re cooking, you try to keep up a conversation, but the reality is both their hands are too busy to converse with you. So you just slump into your seat and try to bask in the comfortable air.

You miss music.

When dinner is done, Sans presents it to you with an ironic flourish and a ‘ta-da!’ Which makes you smile.

They’ve made a... quiche. You don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t that.

Oh well. Time to see if it’s poisonous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got too long so the rest of this will be up at a later date :)


End file.
